ONE

Devon consulted the guide book again, but couldn't find anything that described the giant dilapidated building across the street.

Oh well, she thought. Just because it's old, doesn't mean it's important. She looked around her, then frowned in irritation, her brow furrowing above her thin rimless glasses.

She turned her head from side to side, sighing in exasperation and shaking her head. Why she had been partnered with Amber Collins was beyond her understanding. Well, no, actually she understood it perfectly. Mr. Simms was hoping she'd keep the little idiot out of trouble, or at least, keep her from getting lost.

She walked back along the street, glancing into the store windows she passed. Amber was about as far from her idea of good company as she could imagine. The girl cared nothing for culture or history, spending all her time ogling men and waving her barely covered behind in their faces.

Devon spotted her just then, the long brown hair almost covering her face from this angle, as she leaned over a low fence and talked with a man seated at an outdoor caf?é. Her bright orange mini‑skirt pulled up as she bent over, giving the passing men and motorists a glimpse of buttocks only slightly covered by a tiny black thong.

Devon pursed her lips in disgust and marched across the street to her. She could hear Amber's high pitched giggle long before she came near. Amber was trying to talk with the man, who apparently didn't speak English. She was trying to make up for that by talking louder and more slowly.

"Amber!" she snapped.

Amber turned around, her wide, bright blue eyes blinking uncertainly. Then a smile came over her face. "Devon! I'm so glad you're here. Can you tell me what he's saying?"

"Ignore her. She's an imbecile," Devon said to the man, pulling Amber away by the arm.

"But Devooooon!"

"We're supposed to be at the hotel by noon."

"Oh, poooh!" she whined, her pretty, round face frowning, her lower lip coming out in a pout.

Devon led her along, ignoring the appreciative stares of the men they passed.

Amber liked to display herself, and she had a lot to display. Her long legs and the tiny mini attracted the attention of everyone behind her. Her large, round breasts, only slightly clad in the thin silk halter, bounced within her light lacy bra.

Devon thought she could actually see men's eyes bobbing up and down as they followed their movements. The girl's big nipples pressed firmly through the fabric and her smooth belly and little button peaked out from beneath the short shirt.

Amber was a walking wet dream, and knew it. Devon could hardly begrudge the girl the body she possessed, nor blame her for the drooling imbeciles who fawned over her. She did wish the brunette would display a little less pride of ownership, though.

The girl was almost a cinché, a big breasted nympho with few, if any brains. Devon was just glad she wasn't a blonde, like Devon was. It was hard enough being taken seriously as a woman, especially a blonde woman, without having someone like Amber around to confirm men's idiotic fantasies. Devon might not possess that body, but she wouldn't trade with Amber if it meant lowering her IQ a hundred points to Amber's level.

She herself was dressed with considerably more decency and modesty, wearing a pair of loose black pants, a white shirt and a green vest. They made a very odd couple walking down the street. Devon's straight backed, confident stride, alongside the small brunette's swinging sashay.

There was a whistle from off to their left and Amber's eyes lit up as she peeked over Devon's body to find the source. She giggled, her breasts bouncing up and down. Devon growled low in her throat and pulled the girl along.

"Will you come on!" she snapped, jerking her forward. Amber sighed in disappointment, her eyes blinking sadly as she looked at Devon. Devon shook her head again, feeling like she was beating a puppy. Maybe you are jealous, she thought.

It wasn't that she was ugly. She was, even in her own cautious opinion, rather pretty. Her hair, a very light blonde, was shoulder length and almost straight, parted on the left. She had a slim oval face, with a small mouth and light green eyes. One of her boyfriends had described them as intensely sensual. She'd been flattered, even though she knew it was a line.

Her body was like her face, slim, but well made and healthy. It was rounded in all the right places, though not so generously as Amber's. Her breasts were not large, but neither were they small. In fact, though only a thirty‑four‑C, she could look somewhat busty if she wanted, on account of her thin frame.

She glanced down at Amber's fat rounded melons and couldn't help grin. No, she wouldn't trade for that body, no matter how attractive men found it. How did the girl walk around without falling forward? Her own breasts were more than adequate.

Amber looked up at her, her lower lip still stuck out. It was hard to stay mad at Amber. The girl was not a bad sort really. Far from it. She was one of life's true innocents. Devon had never heard her say a bad thing about anyone. When someone yelled at her, she simply pouted, her eyes downcast. When insulted, if she realized she'd been insulted, she didn't respond.

There wasn't much that made her angry, other than people telling "fibs" or being cruel to animals or children. She really was a nice person, though not too bright. The fact that she slept with anyone who asked her was more as a result of her generous spirit than any obsession with sex.

"Are you mad at me, Devon?"

"No, Amber. I'm not mad at you," Devon groaned.

"You look mad."

"I'm not, okay?"

"Okay." The girl instantly brightened up. How she was gong to survive life was beyond Devon.

Then Amber inhaled deeply and Devon laughed to herself.

"What's funny?"

"Nothing."

She could put up with Amber for a little while. This was her senior year. Next year she was off to U.C.L.A., and she was sure there wouldn't be anyone quite like Amber there. Sluts would be around of course, but none with her almost childlike innocence.

They arrived back at the old hotel in time and went up to their room to change. Devon didn't really need to change, but the hotel was a high class one and Mr. Simms had advised Amber to wear more discrete clothes to dinners.

Once in their room, Amber pulled her shirt up and tossed it on her bed, then unsnapped her big bra and slid her skirt off. She bent over, sliding her thong down with her hands, and stood up naked, totally unconscious of it, or of Devon's presence.

Amber was someone who had adapted easily to Europe's rather blas? attitude to nudity at the beaches. She was never embarrassed about anything, so why should she be embarrassed about her body? She hurried across the room to the closet, her breasts jiggling up and down as Devon watched, arms folded.

"What should I wear?" she asked.

"Anything that covers you up, Amber, and hurry up."

Amber sighed, searching through the closet and finally pulling down a dress that extended almost to her knees. It was the most modest thing she had. She started to pull it on.

"Your bra, Amber," Devon sighed.

"Oh, yeah," the girl giggled. She moved over to the dresser, her large brown nipples hardening in the cool, air‑conditioned air. She bent over to fetch out a new pair of panties and a bra, giving a disinterested Devon a sight of her meaty round buttocks and the thin fringe of brown hair between her legs.

On their first night together in the room, Amber had suggested pushing the beds together.

"Why?" Devon had asked, confused.

"So we can sleep together, silly."

"Huh?"

"Don't you want to have sex?"

"NO!"

"Oh?" Amber seemed surprised. "Oh, well, Okay." She had shrugged in disappointment and masturbated under the covers every night before going to sleep.

Devon had come to realize then where her reputation had come from. Amber simply liked people, and liked to be liked back. Kissing and having sex was just a nicer way of expressing those feelings to the girl, whether with girls or guys. She didn't knowingly flirt, doing it entirely unconsciously.

If you told Amber she should be more modest about people seeing her body, or that she should restrict herself when it came to sex, she would look back in total confusion and ask why. She saw nothing at all wrong with sex. To her it was fun, not something to be done secretly and keep hidden.

Devon had almost been tempted, the first few nights that she had heard Amber sighing and moaning with pleasure from the other bed. She had never had a gay relationship before, and was somewhat curious. Still, she'd barely waded into the sexual waters with men. She didn't think she was ready to start experimenting with women, especially not a blabbermouth like Amber.

"Look over there."

Freda looked up from the menu to see Franz staring across the room. She turned her head and followed his gaze, her eyes narrowing slightly as two young women entered the dining room. One was of normal build, with a lovely oval face and blonde hair. The other was a short, buxom brunette, whose face bore a bright and foolish expression.

"Americans?"

"I'd bet on it," she replied.

"What do you think?"

"They would do nicely, especially the blonde."

"I would have thought the brunette."

"Because of her big chest? Oh, she would be popular, no doubt, but the blonde, now there is something to be excited over. Look at the way she walks, look at her eyes."

The two watched the pair sit at a table with a number of other young people

"She is obviously bright, and looks it."

"Because of the glasses?" Franz sniffed.

"No. There is intelligence in her face. She looks self confident. Many of our... clients would enjoy beating that out of her, seeing it as female arrogance."

"Her body is good, athletic looking," Franz said.

"Yes. Yes. I think those two would do very nicely indeed."

"How do you want to proceed?"

"You go for the brunette. I shall take little miss green eyes myself."

"There will be trouble if Americans go missing."

"There is nothing to link us to them," she replied, coolly, her eyes boring into him.

He looked away. Freda had the eyes to make a man shake and feel tremors on his spine. He had been working for her for several years now, and still did not understand her. He did, however, fear her, and her cruelties.

As near adults, they had the evenings pretty much to themselves, providing they returned to the hotel by eleven. Devon, Amber, and two other girls found a nightclub and began dancing and partying shortly after dinner.

Devon was a little uncomfortable with it all, and was prodded by Kelly and Susan several times to lighten up. She didn't like that expression. She sipped carefully on her drink and looked at Amber, dancing wildly on the dance floor.

Now she was lightened up plenty. The brunette was having a great time, dancing with almost everyone in the place. Devon had been more selective. Amber simply didn't seem to restrict herself at all. She didn't seem to be able to recognize the obvious wolves like the others did, but then, since she didn't care who she slept with, Devon supposed it didn't matter.